Artificial
by Meowzy-chan
Summary: Tabatha was created to become Lady Martel's vessel. It will take fifty days for her programming to prepare. As she ponders over her existance, she is left in the company of a Seraph.
1. Prologue

((A/N: Aaand this is yet another fic by Meowzy. To those who don't know me yet; Welcome. To those who are familiar with my other fics; Welcome back! Really, the summary was kind of vague about this, so let me explain. This fic is about Tabatha and her origin. The other main characters are Yuan and Kratos, though the latter doesn't appear as much. Altessa also has many cameos.

Now, I know most of you will think; "Oh, another Kratos/Yuan fic by Meowzy...", but that's where you're wrong. The relationship between Kratos and Yuan is more like friendship and can only be seen as Kratos/Yuan if you squint. A lot. But I stuck in many YuanxMartel mentions. So this is where it differs from my other fics. No guy/guy in here! However, I must warn you of a dark theme, being suicide. If you don't like the thought of a character wanting to snuff him/herself off, or a bit of blood, then I suppose you'll have... Uhm... Either skip the scenes in question or not read this fic at all. That's up to you, really.

This story is mostly based on my own theory, mixed with as much canon stuff as I could gather. I don't own Tales of Symphonia or the characters, and that counts for all chapters to come. I enjoy reviews, doesn't matter if it's good or bad, but please keep it constructive. Reviews containing only one word, or a smiley, tick me off. Please, people, let me know that you actually _read_ this.

Lastly, uh... Enjoy.))

* * *

Prologue.

He's finally done it.

Mithos finally snapped. It was bound to happen any day now. He approached me today with what was very likely his most insane idea up to now. I can still see that proud smile on his face. How disgusting.

A robot. He wants to put Martel's soul in a robot. The idea alone is preposterous. There is no way a robot can hold a person's soul. Technology simply doesn't work that way. And that's what I told him. Still, he refused to listen to my words. He said, and I quote, "Just you wait and see. We'll have Martel with us again soon."

He's asked Cruxis' most intelligent dwarves to get started on a blueprint. He wants it to be as advanced and detailed as possible. A mechanical vessel "fit for a goddess".

Kratos is staying out of it, as usual. Typical human behaviour. As long as it doesn't involve him, he won't say a word to hinder Mithos. As a teacher, it was his responsibility to stop the boy a long time ago. Just like Mithos, however, he is ignoring my words and acting on his own.

Mithos… Why can't you see that what we are trying to do is wrong? Just the fact that we are still living is wrong. Though… Perhaps the old Mithos had the pleasure of dying a long time ago. All that I see today is Yggdrasill.

I shudder to think what Martel will say when she awakens in a mechanical body. She will not approve. And nothing will be the same. Even if she adapts to that body, nothing will ever be the same again.

_-Excerpt from Yuan's diary-_


	2. Emotions

Emotions.

Sound rings out all around me. Voices. They sound interested. Proud. Excited.

'_Who am I?_'

My eyes are closed. I cannot see a thing. My body feels like lead. I cannot move. Something is flowing through my mind. Data.

'_What am I?_'

Slowly, I open my eyes, wanting to take in my surroundings. Visualisation. Only more data, being projected into a graphic image by my internal programming. Names pop into my mind, matching every object or life form I 'see'.

"She is awake." Whispers a gruff voice.

I turn my head to see a small man. A dwarf. He has long grey hair and a matching beard. He looks neither disappointed nor pleased, much unlike his colleagues. All the other dwarves in the room appear to be excited, scribbling on notepads or swiftly typing something on a control panel.

"What are her statistics?"

"All her functions are operating at one-hundred percent." Another dwarf replies immediately. He is smiling proudly.

Pride… Excitement… Both are emotions. My database classifies them as such. But… What are emotions? How do you know which emotion you are feeling at the time? Because I don't know how I feel right now. The most logical emotion would be confusion.

"Fetch lord Yggdrasill." The dwarf commands, causing one of his co-workers to stride out the door with a fast pace.

Slowly, I raise a hand in front of my face, staring at it. As the dwarf had said, I am functioning at one-hundred percent.

'_What am I?_'

Other life forms don't function at one-hundred percent. I… I am not a life form. I am not organic, therefore I do not live.

The grey-haired dwarf moves to stand in front of me, snapping me out of my musings. He glances up at me, almost expectantly.

"Can you hear me?" He asks.

"Yes." I respond, using my voice for the first time. A young, female voice. But something about it is strange. It sounds robotic. Strained. Unnatural.

"Can you see me?" He asks, checking a notepad.

"Yes." I say again.

"What colour is this pencil?" He holds up a slightly worn pencil.

"Green." I state simply.

"Hmm…" The dwarf checks his notepad again. "Try walking forward."

Without hesitation, I raise my right foot, bringing it down on the ground again about ten inches in front of my other one. Shifting my weight forward to stay balanced, I then step with my left foot to catch up. Not a problem at all.

"Good. Good." The dwarf doesn't look that pleased. His emotion is something different. Disappointment perhaps? Or irritation?

"It looks like this one is not a failure." A dwarf with light brown hair says, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Let's not celebrate too early." The first dwarf shoots him a dismissive look. "Let us run some more tests before lord Yggdrasill arrives. We need to make sure she truly is perfect."

"Let's start with basic sense tests then. Taste, smell, touch…" One of the dwarves is already gathering several wires, connecting them to machines.

I blink slowly. Tests… I am nothing but an experiment. I was created for a purpose. And all my predecessors had failed.

* * *

The tests are over. All the dwarves have returned to their work while they are waiting for something. They do not cast me another glance. They ignore my presence, because they think of me as a toy they can just put away when they're done playing. Is that what I am? A toy? 

The door hisses open and everyone immediately looks up. They bow respectfully at the group entering the room. Three males, seemingly in their late twenties. One human, two half-elves. The one leading them is tall, with long, sleek blonde hair. Lavender wings decorate his back. His expression is blank, though if I were to define an emotion, I'd say he looks almost bored. He floats forward, barely paying any attention to the dwarves.

Following him closely is the human. His hair is auburn coloured and extremely messy, hiding his eyes from view. His emotion is difficult to pinpoint as well. I detect a slight hint of curiosity, but something about him seems dismissive.

One of the dwarves runs forward to greet them, holding a folder filled with papers. He takes another quick bow at the blonde man's feet before addressing him with great respect. "Lord Yggdrasill. I trust you got our message."

"That I did. Now tell me, where is she?" the one named Yggdrasill demands, his voice as cold as ice.

"Right this way, sir." The dwarf turns, leading his superiors deeper into the laboratory, until they come face to face with me.

Finally, I have a decent view of the third man. Hair as blue as ocean water, tied back in a neat ponytail, though some locks fall past the right side of his face. His emerald eyes widen at the sight of me, though the rest of his face barely twitches. Still, my sensors are picking up a slightly increased heartbeat.

Yggdrasill steps forward, eyeing me up and down with an almost invisible smile. It is as though he approves of me.

"Wonderful. Apart from some minor details, she is a splitting image of Martel." He speaks, straightening up again. "I trust that she is in perfect condition."

"Oh yes, my lord. All her systems are functioning like they should." The dwarf replies hastily, noticing the hidden threat in the blonde's voice.

"Excellent." Yggdrasill says, though his voice is still lacking any emotion. "How soon can we begin the mana transfer?"

The dwarf hesitates for a moment, bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously. "Ah… Well, you see my lord… We decided to use a different approach for this model."

"A different approach…?" Yggdrasill's eyes narrow.

"Y-yes. We installed special software that will allow her to accept Lady Martel's soul for sure. However, starting from the second she is activated, it will take fifty days for the software to finish its setup."

"Fifty days…" Yggdrasill thinks for a moment. "And when this software has finished its setup, it is certain that she will accept Martel's soul without fail?"

"Ah… It is a ninety percent chance." The dwarf mumbles. "Altessa was the one who created this program. I do not really know the specifics."

At the moment, Yggdrasill's expression is still irritated, causing the dwarf to cower even more. The human notices however, as he decides to interfere.

"Fifty days is but a small price to pay." He comments.

"Wise words, Lord Kratos." The blonde's expression turns blank again. "Very well. We will wait it out for now."

"Thank you, lord Yggdrasill." The dwarf takes another bow, breathing deeply in relief. Then it seems as though he remembers something, as he quickly straightens up again. "Ah, I have gathered all the technical data in this file. I thought Lord Yuan might like to browse through it."

He holds out the folder to the blue-haired man, who stares at it with a raised eyebrow before accepting it.

"Very well. I shall take a look at it when I have the time." He says shortly.

The dwarf's face lights up slightly. Possibly because he is merely trying to look good in front of his superiors.

Yggdrasill turns swiftly, heading for the door again. "Lord Kratos, Lord Yuan, let us leave."

The man named Kratos follows without delay. Yuan, however, hesitates for a moment, casting one last glance at me before trailing after his companions.

I gaze after them while the dwarves return to their work. Not once did they say a word to me. They talked as though I was not even there. As though I could not hear or see them, just like any other inanimate object. Yet… I _can_ see, and I _can_ hear. I have all five basic senses programmed into my body. Emotions, however, are something I cannot sense. Am I a living object, am I dead, or am I merely caught in between?


	3. Martel

((A/N: 6 reviews, ne? Hey, thanks everyone! Enjoy the next chapter!))

* * *

Martel.

Five days have passed. Five days in which I merely stood in my own secluded corner of the laboratory. Apart from running a few more standard tests, the dwarves ignore me. All, except for one.

"How are you feeling today?" the grey-haired dwarf named Altessa is standing before me. He is the superior of the other dwarves and mainly in charge of creating me. He is my master.

"I do not comprehend the question." I respond blankly.

"It's a simple question. Are you feeling well?" Altessa asks.

I curtly scan my body, trying to find anything out of the order. "All my functions are operating at one-hundred percent."

He sighs, shaking his head softly. He seems displeased by my answer.

"Is something the matter, master?" I enquire. It is polite and standard procedure to ask someone about it if they seem troubled.

"Come with me." He says shortly, turning away.

"What is our destination?"

"No destination. We're simply going to go for a walk." He is already striding towards the door.

"Are we leaving the laboratory, master?" I blink. I have never left the confides of the laboratory before. I do not know what lies outside it.

"Yes. It's not healthy to be cooped up in here."

I follow my master without another word. Still… I do not suffer from physical health problems and I am not sure if I have a mental health. Would it truly be bad if I were locked in here for a long time?

* * *

Welgaia, the city of angels. Though these angels are nothing but half-elves with special physical abilities. Their minds have been wiped clean, leaving them as hollow shells. Their eyes are empty, devoid of emotion. Perhaps they are not unlike myself. However, some of them are casting me strange looks. Others even sink through their knees, murmuring something under their breath. 

"Lady Martel…"

Martel. I have heard the name before. Martel is the soul that is going to be transferred into my body. Who was she?

"What kind of impression does this place give you?" Altessa asks as we walk through the streets.

I glance around, my eyes taking in every detail of my surroundings. "Welgaia. A city constructed in the vast mass of Derris-Kharlan, the planet of Mana. The gravitation here is maintained by the power of the Eternal Sword. The oxygen rate is-"

"No, no." Altessa cuts me off. "What sort of feeling does it give you?"

I think deeply, trying to make sense of the question and find out what kind of answer my master is expecting. "It is dark. The atmosphere here is what one might call 'gloomy'."

"Good enough…"

Altessa sighs again as we approach a large building. Possibly the largest so far. It has colourful, ornate windows and decorative towers. Not pausing, he walks up the steps leading to the large wooden doors and soon disappears through them. I follow, wondering what lies inside this structure.

Entering, I find myself in a large hall. Long benches are lined up at both my sides, forming an aisle that leads directly to an altar directly across from me. There are lit candles and all sorts of statues and golden ornaments in the room. A bland light is falling in through the windows. The only sound is a steady rhythm of Altessa's footsteps as he walks up to the altar.

Finally, I catch up with my master as we stop at the end of the aisle. He turns to face me with a serious expression. "This… is Cruxis' very own Cathedral of Martel."

Cathedral. A place used to worship gods. Does this mean that Martel is a goddess? Or perhaps a divine spirit?

"And this… This is Martel herself." He continues, gesturing at a large painting that is displayed on the altar.

The painting portrays a young woman with flowing green hair and eyes to match. She has a kind smile on her face, though it is somewhat sad. Apart from her slightly majestic aura, she seems just like any other half-elf.

"Acknowledged." I say, my mind registering the new information to integrate it with other streams of data.

"Martel is the goddess of the worlds. By Cruxis proclaimed, of course. She was a wonderful woman. Kind to all and a bit of an idealist. Or so we are told. Her great deeds are known throughout the lands." Altessa pauses for a moment, glancing at the painting. "She was Lord Yggdrasill's sister."

"You are implying that she is no longer Lord Yggdrasill's sister. Why is that, master?" I tilt my head slightly.

"She died." The dwarf replies bluntly. "You were created to accept her soul, so that she may be reborn in your body."

"Acknowledged."

So that is my purpose… To ensure that Martel would live again. My body will become hers. Lord Yggdrasill will have his sister back. Everything fits in with the conversation they had in the laboratory five days ago.

"It is said that when Martel is reborn, the worlds will be salvaged." Altessa continues. His voice sounds like it's filled with disbelief. He does not trust this prophecy, which was probably created by Lord Yggdrasill himself.

"I will try to assist in my mission as much as I can." I speak solemnly.

"Good…" My master mumbles.

Suddenly, the door of the cathedral opens and an angel enters, flapping his wings with a swift pace as he approaches us. His eyes snap back and forth between myself and the painting for a moment, before he turns to Altessa..

"Master Altessa, you are needed in the Exsphere storage. You must head there immediately." He says in a fast yet blank voice.

The dwarf grunts shortly, closing his eyes for a moment. "Very well." He turns to me, crossing his arms. "Wait here. I don't trust you to get back to the laboratory on your own."

"Yes, master." I give a curt nod.

I watch them both leave the cathedral in a hurry. A long, pressing silence follows after the door slams shut behind them. This place is like a sanctuary.

I turn to the painting again, closely observing Martel's features. If she were to awaken in my body, would she be able to feel? For that matter, am I unable to experience emotions because my internal programming knows nothing about it, or because I do not have a soul? Would Martel's soul complete me? There are so many questions and their answers can not be calculated or predicted.

Who was Martel, really?


	4. Opinion

((A/N: Chapter three! Thanks for all the reviews so far!))

* * *

Opinion.

After a long wait, I finally hear the cathedral doors behind me open. The one who enters freezes in his tracks. The door slams shut again, a booming sound echoing off the walls. Slowly, I turn to face the one who entered.

Lord Yuan. One of the four Seraphim who serves under lord Yggdrasill. The expression of shock on his face is quickly replaced by a scowl. Even from such a distance, he manages to peer deeply into my eyes.

"It's you." He says dismissively, crossing his arms.

"Affirmative." I bow my head respectfully.

"From behind, you look just like her." He speaks, approaching the altar. He stops in front of the painting, looking up at it with a sad stare. It's almost as though he is lost in memories. "But your eyes… They lack something." He turns to glance at me again.

"I apologize, my lord." I reply automatically.

"Hmmm…" His gaze returns to the painting. He looks almost like he disapproves of it. The very image of his goddess.

"Is something bothering you, my lord?" I ask for the second time today. It is almost like every being here who still has a free will paid for it with positive feelings.

A long silence follows, in which he doesn't respond. Perhaps he's contemplating how to best word his thoughts. Or maybe he doesn't feel the need to respond to someone like me at all. Then again, that would be illogical, as he is the one who started the conversation.

"You are programmed to form an opinion based only on logic, correct?" he asks.

His question strikes me as odd. If I use only logic and information provided to form an opinion, is it really an opinion? Does it reflect what I think about the matter? Then again, aren't all opinions based on logic in a way?

"Affirmative."

"Do you think that reviving Martel is the right thing to do?" He is still staring at the painting unblinkingly.

A small silence follows as the related data passes through my mind, my processors balancing out the pros and cons as reasons and motives are formed. A delicate procedure, as opinions are a very strong part of your essence. Finally, I have finished my analysis.

"Error. I am unable to form an opinion on this matter, due to lack of information." I speak simply.

"Lack of information?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"There is no certainty what the consequences of Martel's revival will be, therefore I cannot tell if it is the right thing to do." I explain, watching his face take on a dark look.

"One consequence would be that Yggdrasill will have his sister back." He speaks through a forced smile.

"One man's happiness is irrelevant in matters regarding life or death."

The way his face is half hidden in the shadows, one might call his posture frightening. His eyes are filled with a coldness that almost seems to freeze everything around him. Still, he stares blankly ahead.

"Then let me ask you something else." He says, an almost sad tone in his voice. "Is it alright for us, the Seraphim of Cruxis, to still be alive after such a long time?"

Once again, data streams through my processors. An extremely debatable issue. Ethical subroutines, knowledge of nature, conjecture of the consequences… All this is involved.

"Negative." I finally say, taking note that the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, though the rest of his face remained vacant. "Living for an extended amount of time is against the law of nature and exspheres were not meant to be used in this way. There is a chance that the process of slowed aging will cause physical or mental side effects."

"That's all I needed to know." Yuan turns back to the aisle behind him, starting to walk towards the exit as his cloak swishes behind him.

Soon, the large wooden doors slam shut again, leaving me alone in the cathedral. I move my attention back to the painting, taking in the girl's smile. The impression that this artwork leaves on me is different than the impression it leaves on someone like lord Yuan. He knew Martel while she was still alive and memories of long ago probably haunt his mind whenever he thinks of her. The same goes for lord Kratos and lord Yggdrasill.

* * *

Five minutes after lord Yuan left, the door opens again. I turn expectantly, assuming my master has returned. Just like before, I am mistaken. 

Lord Kratos enters, glancing around as though looking for something. Ignoring my presence, he starts walking up the aisle, peering in-between benches as he passes them. Finally, he reaches the altar and has no choice but to address me.

"You. Automated girl. Have you seen lord Yuan?" he demands immediately.

"Affirmative. Lord Yuan entered this cathedral approximately eight minutes and nineteen seconds ago." I respond, not fazed by his rudeness. Why bother being polite to an 'automated girl'?

Kratos casts a quick glance at the door, before turning back to me. "When did he leave?"

"Five minutes and thirty-three seconds ago. He seemed to be in a hurry." I add, causing his eyes to widen slightly.

"Did he talk to you?" He asks swiftly.

"Affirmative. We briefly discussed Martel's revival and extended lifespans." I give a curt nod.

An expression of dread washes over Kratos' face, before it's changed into determination. "Follow me." He says, running down the aisle again.

I am rooted to the spot for a moment, my master's command to wait in the cathedral forbidding me from moving. Then, the command to follow overwrites it. Lord Kratos is my master's superior, after all. If he says follow, I follow.

* * *

Not knowing where we are going, I chase lord Kratos through the halls of Welgaia. This action prompts many inner questions. Why must I follow him? Does it have to do with lord Yuan? What will my master think when he notices I am no longer at the cathedral? 

Kratos storms up a flight of stairs, leading up to a tall building. I follow, matching his speed. The door is roughly opened with a shove and he leads the way into the plain white hall. Without hesitation, he strides towards a pair of elevator doors, jabbing the button impatiently. I move to stand next to him, watching his anxious expression.

The doors open with a ding and Kratos enters the elevator, grabbing my arm to pull me inside too before choosing the topmost button. Soon, we're moving towards the highest level of the building at a steady speed.

"My lord, where are we going?" I ask, noticing the way his fists are clenching and unclenching with an irregular rhythm.

"Yuan's living quarters." He responds with a grunt.

I am slightly surprised, with several reasons. One of them is that lord Kratos had not referred to his companion as 'lord Yuan', as he'd done earlier. Another reason is that I'd figured commoners were not allowed in the superior's quarters.

Finally, the elevator arrive at its destination and the doors zoom open. Kratos hurries into a long corridor, passing unnamed doors along the way as he is focussed solely on the larger one at the end of the hall. I follow. Instead of knocking, the man immediately enters a clearance code into the control panel next to it. Accompanied by a pleasant little tune, a light turns from red to green and the door opens. My heightened hearing picks up a sharp gasp from next to me.

* * *

((This story is so predictable...)) 


	5. Life

((A/N: It's not that predictable? For real? Hm... Either that, or people suspected something, didn't like it and cast the idea aside. Well, whatever. You'll find out now anyway. OH, and keep in mind, this is one of those dark theme chapters! Well, the start of the chapter is, anyway. Eheheh... I warned you!

Thanks for the reviews, everyone!))

* * *

Life.

My attention is immediately drawn to the ground. For a moment, I feel like I can actually sense shock. A crimson fluid is slowly oozing towards the door.

"Dammit Yuan! Not again!" Kratos rushes forward before falling to his knees next to a limp body. More blood splatters all around, but the human doesn't care as he reaches out to feel for a pulse.

I glance around, taking in my surroundings. A simple living room and a lone door in the back. A little distance from Kratos lies a plain dagger, stained red. There is a pool of blood on the floor, and in the middle of it…

"First Aid!" Kratos' voice rings through the room, breaking the silence once more.

"First Aid!" A sparkle of healing magic. The dagger shimmers eerily.

"First Aid!" Yuan's body lights up, before the glow slowly fades again. Such desperation in Kratos' voice…

A painful silence follows, as the human merely stares at his companion. There is no doubt that Yuan is still breathing, but despite the healing techniques he is still in a weakened state. Finally, Kratos scoops the man into his arms and gets to his feet.

"Open that door for me." He says coldly, carrying Yuan towards the lone door in the back.

I nod and walk forward, not bothered by the fact that the blood on the ground soils my simple sandals. The wooden door opens easily to my touch. Without saying a word, Kratos passes by me, into the bedroom that lies beyond. I cast a quick glance at Yuan's pale, unconscious form. Was it because of my words that the man tried to end his life? … No. Lord Kratos' words implied that it had happened before.

Letting out a nearly impossible to hear grunt, Kratos gently drops Yuan onto the bed before straightening up. Casting one quick look at his blood-soaked hands, he hastily wipes them on his pants.

"How often has this happened, my lord?" I ask.

"Too often." Is all he says.

"How long has lord Yuan had these tendencies?" I continue to ask questions, as if I am some sort of child.

"… It started about two-hundred years ago. Just once. But seventy years ago it happened again. And then forty years ago…" Kratos stares at the blue-haired man with a sad expression. "These past years, it's been happening at a steadily increasing rate. I have always managed to get to him before he hurts himself too badly, but this was too close of a call."

"Why do you not tell him to stop?" I tilt my head slightly.

"Because it's just not that easy." A deep sigh escapes his lips. "He's a stubborn jackass."

"Jackass?" I repeat, not recognising the word.

"… Never mind."

Immediately, my mind drops the matter to continue with the topic at hand. "Does lord Yggdrasill know about this?"

"Lord Yggdrasill thinks that it is just a phase. His exact words were that we should 'sit back and wait for this sudden act of foolishness to pass'."

"If it is happening at an increasing rate, sitting back and waiting would be illogical. Something needs to be done." I state.

"I know…" Kratos speaks softly, staring coldly at the floor. Suddenly, he steps forward. "Stay here. I need to freshen up."

"Acknowledged."

Watching my lord leave, I move to sit down next to the bed, peering at Yuan intently. What kind of thoughts were racing through his mind whenever he decided to pick up that knife? Is it truly so hard for him to live?

* * *

Ten minutes passed and lord Kratos still hasn't returned. I hear a faint groan and turn my head to watch lord Yuan, who seems to finally be waking. His face contorts in pain for a moment, before his eyelids flutter open. I simply stare back at him. After a few seconds, I notice that his eyes are starting to shimmer. … Tears? I reach out to wipe them away. 

"Leave him." says a voice behind me.

I glance back to see lord Kratos standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed dismissively, and he has been cleansed of most blood. Still, his clothes are stained crimson.

Yuan sits up slowly, staring down at his own drenched outfit. His eyes seem to glaze over. "For a moment, I thought I'd succeeded."

"You're a fool." Kratos replies shortly.

Eyes narrowing to a glare, Yuan turns to face his so-called rescuer. "Why do you always interfere?"

"Because it's my job." Kratos snaps. "Though I'm getting tired of acting as your babysitter."

"Then stop your intrusions and leave me be!" Yuan shouts angrily.

"You know I can't do that." The human replies in a simple tone of voice.

"Because of Yggdrasill? Or maybe because of what Martel will say when she wakes up inside _that_?" Yuan raises his hand to point at me in an accusing way.

I am just a thing to him. Something to host Martel's soul. A vessel. That is why I was created and that will always be my true purpose and identity.

Kratos sighs, closing his eyes and shaking his head softly. "You just don't understand…"

"No, I guess I don't." Yuan grunts.

The auburn-haired man opens his mouth, only to close it almost immediately, at loss for words. Nothing can be done to change lord Yuan's mind at this point.

"Can you find your way back to the laboratories by yourself?" Kratos asks, turning to me.

"Affirmative." I respond.

Though master Altessa clearly stated that he did not trust me to return to the laboratories alone, it does not mean I am not capable of doing so. If someone of a higher rank orders me to go there, I would do so. It's as simple as that.

"Very well. You may leave."

I remain quiet for a moment, watching lord Yuan, who is staring coldly at the wall in front of him. Hidden behind that layer of ice glazed over his eyes is a shadow of pain. Something inside me clicks.

"Will lord Yuan be alright?" I enquire.

"I'll watch over him, as always." Kratos speaks softly.

"Acknowledged." I turn and walk out the door. Through the living room and down the hallway, soon stepping into the elevator to leave the building.

Unlike myself, he was blessed with life. He is a breathing, sentient being, yet he wants to end it all. To leave everything and everyone behind, without being bothered by the consequences. Is it truly so hard to live?


	6. Reflection

((A/N: Heeheeh, thanks for the reviews everyone! Oh, if you're wondering about the status of some of my other stories, it's on my profile (has been for a long time, actually). Just thought I'd let you all know, in case some of you were interested. ... Probably not.

Well, enjoy!))

* * *

Reflection.

Twelve days have passed since I was first activated. Only thirty-eight are left until my internal program finishes its setup. For about a week, I have stayed in this laboratory. Master Altessa did not seem very pleased that I had left the cathedral without his permission, though he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

As usual, the dwarves are absorbed in their own work, not bothering to divert their attention to me for once. There is no need for that.

It is quite a surprise when the door to the laboratories suddenly opens and lord Kratos enters. Everyone immediately stops what they were doing to face him, some even bowing low. Still, the man ignores them, continuing on his path until he is standing a few feet in front of me. His eyes narrow slightly.

"You, come with me." He says, causing me to draw the conclusion that he is in a very bad mood.

"Acknowledged." I step forward, away from my usual spot, to follow lord Kratos.

As we pass master Altessa, he pauses for a moment to cast the dwarf a quick glance. "Master Altessa, I trust you have no objections."

"None whatsoever, my lord." Altessa takes a short bow, though his voice tells me that he is not so pleased that lord Kratos requires my presence for something.

We continue on our path, leaving the laboratory and moving through the hallways. Soon, we are standing outside the building. A few angels cast us an interested glance, but it doesn't last long.

"I… require your assistance." Kratos begins, turning to meet my gaze.

"My assistance, my lord?" I ask, tilting my head inquiringly.

"I must go to the surface for a while, to guide the chosen of Tethe'alla on her journey of regeneration. I tried to get out of it, but lord Yggdrasill's orders are absolute." Kratos' eyes narrow in contempt for a moment. "Therefore, I need someone to look after lord Yuan while I am gone. You are the only one other than lord Yggdrasill who knows of his… condition."

A task. A duty that is given to me. Perhaps I can serve another purpose, aside from becoming Martel's vessel, after all. But… am I up to the task?

"Will my presence be sufficient to stop lord Yuan from resorting to his suicidal tendencies?" I wonder aloud.

"I hope so." Kratos mutters. "You merely have to keep a close eye on him and keep him away from objects he can use to injure himself."

The task seems simple enough…

"Acknowledged."

"Very well. I shall let master Altessa know that you will be spending a few weeks with lord Yuan." He says, trying his best to hide his true emotions. But I can see that, deep inside, he is doubting his own decision.

"How long will you be absent?" I ask.

"Two weeks. Perhaps three. It depends how long the chosen will last."

Like myself, the chosen is to become a vessel for Martel. If she finishes her journey on time and has a matching mana signature, she will accept Martel's soul in my stead. If that happens, what will become of me? Will I be destroyed? Or perhaps stored away in a dark corner of the laboratory, serving no further purpose?

Then… That means the chosen one is an obstacle, preventing me from reaching my goal. There is nothing I can do about it though. The chosen was blessed to live on the planet's surface, whereas I am forced to wander the halls of Derris-Kharlan until the fifty days have passed and I lose my consciousness to Martel.

* * *

Quaint. That is how one would describe lord Yuan's living quarters. For someone of such a high status, he is living awfully modestly. Why would that be? Does it make him feel more at ease? Does he refuse to accept Cruxis' wealth? 

I approach a tall mirror standing near the wall, peering into it. Staring back at me is a girl with tangled, green hair. Her dress is long and white. A simple design, sort of like a gown, though with lime-coloured lines around the edges. I see an almost exact image of Martel, the girl from the painting, reflected back at me. But it is off. The one in the reflection doesn't look like a goddess at all. She looks shabby. Unkempt. Dusty. Her eyes are devoid of all emotion.

Will I really be able to accept Martel's soul? Even though I was made to have her appearance, I look nothing like her.

"Why are you here?" asks a low voice.

I look up to see lord Yuan leaning against the doorpost, leading to his bedroom. His eyes are narrowed in a glare.

"Lord Kratos ordered me to look after you while he is away." I respond simply.

"Look after me?" he echoes, smiling lightly. "He thinks I need a baby-sitter now?"

I say nothing, continuing to stare at him. He moves away from the doorpost, crossing his arms.

"Is there any chance I can order you to go away?"

"Negative. Lord Kratos' order cannot be overwritten by anyone other than lord Yggdrasill." I reply, shaking my head.

"Figures." Yuan sighs, stepping towards a nearby desk and sitting behind it. "Just don't get in my way."

Opening a drawer, he pulls out a few papers and places them on the hard wooden surface. Within moments, he is writing on them. Scribbling little words or crossing out entire sentences. The only sound that fills the room is the scratching of his pen.

Underneath the loose sleeves of his shirt I can see thin scars on his arm. Faint outlines of the actions I am supposed to prevent. Even with lord Kratos' healing skills, they still haven't fully disappeared.

I turn to the mirror behind me, trying to envision what I would look like with a concerned expression on my face. What _Martel_ would look like with a concerned expression on her face. Nothing comes to me. My features remain blank. Empty, as they always are.

* * *

It is not until late in the evening that I decide to take action. Lord Yuan has been working for six hours without end. Something has to be done. 

I exit the living room, moving away from the place I had been standing all this time, entering the kitchen instead. He pays no notice to my leave. I start opening the cabinets, searching through them. A limited amount of dishes and cutlery. A few jars, some even unopened, others looking like they passed their expiration date a long time ago. The refrigerator is nearly empty, with the exception of a few vegetables.

Everything here is unorganised. There doesn't seem to be a logical placing or pattern for any of these cabinets. The drawers are even worse. Seraphim do not require nutrients that often, therefore the kitchen would remain mostly unused. But this… This is just one big mess.

Hidden behind a large pot, I find a small booklet. As I flip through it, I discover it is filled with simple recipes. All I have to do is gather the ingredients that are present and try to find a recipe to match them.

* * *

"What's this?" 

I stare down at Yuan, retracting my hand from the dish that I have placed on his desk. The scent of it wafts into his face, accompanied by rising steam.

"It is curry." I say simply.

He turns his gaze to the food before him, seeming slightly annoyed. "Why did you put it on top of my papers?"

"Because you need to take a break, my lord." I take a fork out of my pocket where I had put it for safe-keeping, laying it next to the plate.

"I don't require food. Now leave me alone." He shoves the curry away, running a quick hand across his papers.

"Though your Cruxis crystal delays your metabolism, it does not mean you do not require food. Now eat." I respond, just as commandingly as he had done.

He dares another peek up at me, glaring deeply. Then, his eyes seem to soften slightly. He sighs again, admitting defeat. "Fine."

He scoops some curry onto his fork, keeping it at a steady distance from his mouth in a moment of hesitation. Eyeing it as if it were poison, he gulps it down anyway. The expression on his face is quite odd.

"Is it not to your liking, my lord?" I ask.

"It's delicious…" he responds slowly, staring at the curry again with a sad expression. "Martel… always tried so hard, but she never did get it right."

* * *

((Explanation, because some of my beta-readers got confused with this. The curry that Tabatha made was perfect, whereas Martel's curry was... Uhm... comparable to something Raine might cook up. Hence, there's a difference. ... Yeah.)) 


	7. Insight

((A/N: Chapter six already? Wow... Time flies. Sorry I've been away so much. I got my hands on Tales of Fandom volume 2 and... Well... I won't bore you with details. But it's sweeeet.  
Thanks for the reviews so far! Enjoy!))

* * *

Insight.

Three more days have passed. Lord Yuan is still absorbed in his work. He does not take breaks often, and when he does, they only last five minutes. It is quite strange that he has so much work to do. Is it normal that a Seraph is this busy?

He pays no attention to me, acting as though I am not even there. Not a word has passed his lips since I made him dinner. After a two days, I decided to resort to cleaning the kitchen, instead of standing around like a useless puppet. Though lord Kratos did not give me any order to clean the apartment during his absence, I felt a need to do so anyway. I'm sure that, after I finish this room, I'll get started on the living room.

On the third day, my sensors pick up a loud crashing sound that originates from the living room. I drop the towel I had used to polish the cabinets, making my way to the door and casting my eyes to the ground. Lying on the ground, next to his desk, is lord Yuan. From the looks of it, he had taken a stack of papers and an inkpot with him during his fall, as they lie scattered over the floor. One quick check of his pulse tells me that he's still alive. Apparently, his fatigue had finally caught up with him, causing him to pass out.

It is quite sad, really. Trying to keep his mind off whatever is troubling him, he must try to keep himself busy with work. However, long-lived as Seraphim may be, they still require occasional rest. Not just physically but mentally as well.

Silently, I pick him up from the ground and move him to his bedroom. It is not completely risk free, as my body was not designed to carry heavy objects or people. When I drop him on his bed, however, it seems like no damage was done to my appendages.

I return to the living room, eyeing the chaos on the floor. Ink has been soaked up by the carpet and splattered over a few of the papers. One doesn't have to be a genius to deduce that lord Yuan would not be happy when he regains consciousness.

A few paper towels and half a bottle of carpet cleaner later, I have finished disposing of the mess. Some of the reports were beyond salvaging and have now ended up in the trash. I make a mental note to force lord Yuan to take longer breaks as I open one of the desk drawers to put the papers in it. Instead, I find a small, leather-bound booklet. I take it out, replacing it with the papers before checking the title. It is a diary.

Diaries are sort of like databases. You can use them to record thoughts that you have that day, sum up important events and archive your feelings. About yourself and about others. In a way, diaries provide insight into the owner's mind.

I cast a quick glance into the bedroom to see that lord Yuan is still fast asleep. Perhaps, if I read this, I can gain some understanding as to why he is acting so strange lately? I decide to take the chance and open it on a casual day, about three-hundred years ago. It describes how lord Yuan had to head for the planet's surface to inspect the new Church of Martel in Palmacosta. Though it abided by all the rules a church must follow, he found he did not approve of it.

It is a strange diary, as it seems to be used mostly to take quick notes. Sometimes, there is a span of a hundred days in-between entries, other times only ten. The amount of times that lord Yggdrasill is labeled a 'bastard' increases as the years pass. I was under the assumption that they were friends, yet lord Yuan speaks ill of him an awful lot. Whenever there is a mention of lord Kratos, it is brief and usually a complaint of some kind.

Just when I start to conclude that this diary is useless to me, I reach a rather peculiar entry. The handwriting is shakier than usual, as though scribbled in a great hurry.

"_I can't take this much longer. To live like this forever… The thought is unbearable. I will never forgive Mithos for doing this to me. I never asked to be a seraph. I never asked to be immortal. _

_All I want is for everything to end. To be re-united with Martel. But even that will not happen. She is caught in a realm between life and death, her soul merely existing. It reminds me of myself, in a way. I doubt she would have even wanted to be revived._

_I grow tired of waiting for something that might never happen. I grow tired of watching Mithos lose more and more of his mind. I grow tired of it all_."

I quietly close the booklet again, putting it back where I found it. Lord Yuan… never asked for a life like this. He is being forced to live in an eternal hell, yet his supposed friends don't even seem to notice what the problem is. Still, would his death really make anything better?

* * *

A few hours later, lord Yuan finally regains consciousness. His eyelids flutter open slowly, before he sits up holding his head. It doesn't take long for him to realize what had happened. 

"How long was I out?" he asks.

"Three hours, twenty-one minutes and nineteen seconds." I respond simply.

He doesn't make any move to get out of bed, so I sit down on a chair next to it, observing him closely. I didn't think Seraphim could look this tired.

"How are you feeling?" I enquire.

"Why do you care?" he snaps in response.

"Why would I not care?"

It is strange, though. Automated dolls cannot _care_ about things or people, can they? They can merely look after them when ordered to.

"Tch."

"It would be best if you stop pushing yourself, my lord. Even Seraphim have their limits." I speak, categorizing the way he's glaring at me as unimportant.

"Stop that." he says shortly.

"Stop what?" I ask, a bit confused.

"Acting like you're _her_."

The way he says that last word could be described as a unsettling. Even now, it is obvious he is comparing me to Martel. But…

"I am not taking care of you because Martel would do the same. I am doing so because lord Kratos ordered me to do so."

Yet… Somehow I can't help but theorize that if lord Kratos hadn't asked for my aid, I would have tried to be of assistance somehow anyway. Perhaps my programming is expanding and teaching itself to take decisions of its own. It surely would explain why I had started cleaning the apartment.

Lord Yuan looked away, crossing his arms, incredible venom hidden in his eyes. If glares could pack energy, the far wall would have most likely exploded.

"I am not Martel. I am also not trying to _be_ Martel. I am merely existing until the time comes for me to complete my purpose." I say truthfully.

"What if you didn't have a purpose? Would you really continue to exist for nothing?" Yuan demands, gazing up at me.

… What a strange question. I would think the answer would be obvious. Something this trivial is what bothers one of the four almighty Seraphim?

"If your life lacks a purpose, you must merely go out and find one. If you are blessed with life, use that life to benefit others. Then, surely, it will be to your own advantage as well."

For a second, I think that lord Yuan's jaw might drop. He manages to catch his composure just in time, though.

"Is that really all there is to it?" he asks softly.

"Yes." I give a gentle nod. "For someone of your stature, anything is possible. You may leave Derris-Kharlan whenever you feel like it. You can go to the planet's surface and help civilians. You, one of the four ancient Kharlan heroes and now a Seraph, possess amazing strength."

In a way, I envy lord Yuan. Even though he does not think so, he has a lot of freedom. More freedom than myself.

"… Thank you." He whispers, smiling faintly. The first time I have ever seen him truly smile.


	8. Appearance

((A/N: Phew, it's been a longer while than usual, hasn't it? I'm sorry. I've been soooo busy. Once again, I thank everyone who reviewed! Love ya guys!))

* * *

Appearance.

"Hey."

I look up from scrubbing the table to see lord Yuan staring at me with a fixed gaze. It's a thoughtful, almost interested gaze.

"How come you never comb your hair?" he asks.

I blink, tilting my head. That is a question I was not expecting.

"It is not part of my standard self-maintenance program." I respond earnestly.

"But your hair is extremely tangled as it is. Like this, it will only get in the way." He gets up from the chair he was sitting in, moving to stand behind me and turning me to face a mirror. "If you're not going to comb it, you should at least tie it back like I do."

I watch my reflection intently, noting the way my unkempt hair is falling past my shoulders, some locks even into my face. If this keeps up, I might not ever be able to untangle it again. But…

"Did Martel ever tie her hair back, my lord?" I enquire.

Through the mirror, I can see his emerald eyes narrow at the mention of her name for a moment. Then his expression turns blank again. "Does it matter? You said yourself that you're not trying to be like her."

"That is correct." I admit.

"If you're merely trying to exist until your purpose is fulfilled, shouldn't you take the most efficient path?" he adds.

I process that logic, concluding that he has a valid point. Why would I take the hard way if I could teach myself an easier one? I can simply add the act of combing and tying back my hair to my self-maintenance program.

"I will comply." I speak, before my eyes wander the dresser to find a comb or brush.

"With such long hair, I think a braid would be the best option." Lord Yuan grabs a nearby chair, placing it behind me. "Sit down, I'll do it for you."

I sit, throwing my long hair back. Lord Yuan grabs another chair and moves it to sit behind me. Silently, he starts to brush. Trying to comb through tangles of green hair. It is probably a tedious job. After a while, his eyes start to glaze over slightly.

"My lord?"

"Hm?" He looks up questioningly.

"Why do you oppose lady Martel's revival?" I ask.

"What?" he lowers the brush, staring at my reflection with a blank expression.

"Judging from your diary, you oppose lady Martel's revival. Why is that?" I try again.

"It's because…" his gaze is lowered to the ground. "Because I'm sure she would not have wanted it this way."

"She would not have wanted it?" I raise an eyebrow.

Before I'd gotten to know lord Yuan, I had assumed all mortal creatures long for life. They cling to it and are afraid to lose it. Should they die, surely they'd want to be revived. That was what I had assumed.

"Not like this. Thousands of people are suffering because of this Chosen system." Yuan grits his teeth in frustration, before raising the brush to my hair again. "Well, there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"How can you be sure if you haven't _tried_ to do anything?" I question. Then I suddenly sense a nasty tug at my head. The brush has probably gotten stuck in a knot of hair.

Yuan sighs, slowly pulling the brush back with a hopeless expression. "Because Yggdrasill doesn't listen to a word I say."

"Are lord Kratos and yourself not lord Yggdrasill's advisors?" I ask.

"_Advisors_? Hah." The Seraph laughs coldly. "Kratos is Yggdrasill's loyal dog, and I… Well… I'm here because Yggdrasill is sure Martel will _kill_ him if he lets me die."

"She would kill her own brother?"

Would Lady Martel really be capable of such a thing? It is said that she was compassionate and gentle, but… Quite a lot of things about the four Seraphim of Cruxis turn out to be fabricated.

"In a manner of speaking…" A small smile appears on Yuan's face. He is probably envisioning the scene in his mind, causing him to be amused.

_In a manner of speaking_. Then, Martel wouldn't do anything to harm her brother after all. It is strange, how organisms can say things that aren't true, or highly exaggerated.

"Then, how do _you_ think Martel would feel if you die?" I wonder.

As I stare into the mirror, I watch Yuan's gaze drift to the ground, locks of blue hair falling into his face. He pauses his brushing and remains silent for a moment. It was a painful question, apparently. I conclude that I should not have asked it, though it is too late to take it back now.

"She'd be devastated." He finally responds, his voice soft yet unwavering. "Just like I was when she died."

Martel truly was a caring person, then. Her death apparently had a great impact on lord Yuan. Yet he opposes her revival, because he respects her wishes. From that I conclude that lord Yuan is a noble person. Perhaps more noble than lord Yggdrasill. Lord Yggdrasill does not think for a moment that Martel would not want to be revived in this manner. He is merely thinking of himself.

Would reviving lady Martel truly be the right thing to do?

After a few minutes, Yuan finishes braiding my hair. He ties a rubber band around the end to make sure it does not return to a loose state again.

"There." He states simply. "Next time, you'll have to do it yourself."

"Acknowledged." I reply. The act of braiding has now been added to my maintenance program.

Though my face still looks like Martel's, this hairstyle almost disrupts the likeness. Martel's features are my own and there is nothing I can do about that. However, the tiniest of changes to this mirror image makes me seem like… an individual.

Yuan gets to his feet, wandering back to the chair by his desk. He seems almost lost in thought. For a few minutes, I watch him.

"What is your name?" he finally asks.

"My name?" I repeat blankly.

Automated vessels do not have names. They do not require one. My creators never gave me a name, assuming I would one day bear the name of Martel.

"Well, I can't keep calling you 'Automated girl', or anything of the sort. Even though you're not organic, you can form your own thoughts. You are a sentient being, therefore you deserve a name."

I remain silent, not being able to come up with any kind of response.

"You must have _some_ sort of designation." Yuan raises an eyebrow.

That last word does spark recognition in my memory banks. "My designation is 'Technologically Advanced Bodily Accurate Temporal Housing Automata'."

"Technologically…" Blankness washes over Yuan's face. Then he smiles. "Yes, ofcourse!"

Turning in his seat, he opens a drawer from his desk and starts rummaging through the papers. Finally, he pulls out a folder and opens it to reveal blueprints. Blueprints I recognize as my own.

"Technologically Advanced Bodily Accurate Temporal Housing Automata." He mutters again, reading the one of the titles. "But that's too long. If we take the first letter from each word…"

He takes a pen out from between the chaos on his desk, scribbling on a piece of paper. Then he looks up and smiles contently. "It spells Tabatha."

I blink, instantly registering this word.

_Tabatha_.

* * *

((Credit for Tabatha's full designation does not go to me! It goes to my friend Renegade of Life.)) 


	9. Difference

((**Meowzy:** My, people certainly are enjoying this story a lot, huh? You should count yourselves lucky I finished it before I started uploading. I got struck by a major writersblock. ... Again. Anywaaay, enjoy the next chapter!))

* * *

Difference.

"My lord, are you sure about this?"

"It is as I said earlier. These clothes do not restrict her movement as much."

"But… Lord Yggdrasill-"

"Leave lord Yggdrasill to me. If he has any objections, I will give him a full report as to why this dress is more appropriate for an automated vessel than that filthy cloth she was wearing before."

"… As you wish, my lord."

Not daring to say another word, the nervous dwarf retreats to his corner of the laboratory. Yuan moves to stand next to me, a mildly satisfied grin on his face.

"Well? Is it to your liking?" he asks.

I continue to stare into the mirror before me, taking in every aspect of my new clothes. When I was first activated, I was wearing a plain white dress with green lining, long enough to brush my ankles. Now, however, my dress is black for the most part and fits perfectly around my body. The skirt is small, not even reaching to my knees, yet wide at the same time, with something similar to a tail. The sleeves hang loose around my arms, though they are not attached to the dress itself, instead being separate garments. Black socks are pulled up high under my new black and white shoes. Lime green lines decorate the garb, and an oddly shaped hat is placed on top of my head, covering most of my hair. My neatly trimmed bangs, however, still hide my forehead and a long braid still falls past my back.

This new outfit is made of a cloth that is resistant to high temperatures and stretches in such a way it is indeed perfect for an inorganic being such as myself. The fact that the skirt is much shorter does give my movement more freedom. However, the level of decoration and beauty of this new dress could be seen as irrelevant. I do not wear clothes to look more appealing to the eye. I must conclude, though, that decoration does not make this outfit any less practical.

"Yes, my lord." I say, before turning my gaze away from the mirror to look up at Yuan instead.

"Excellent." He smiles faintly.

"My lord, why did you go through all this trouble?" I ask, watching his every movement. "It is true that this outfit surpasses my previous one, but it did not bother you. There were no negative factors forcing you to change my old outfit. I alone will suffer the benefits."

He stays still for a moment, as though digging through his own feelings to find the reason himself. "I just couldn't stand watching you walk around in a dirty old rag. That's all."

With that, he turns and leaves, beckoning me to follow.

* * *

Forty-three days have passed since I was first activated. Only seven days are left until the new software finishes its setup, and I will be ready to accept lady Martel's soul. At the same time, it has been thirty-one days since lord Kratos left to guide the chosen of Tethe'alla on her journey. Should the Chosen finish her journey successfully, she would become a vessel as well. Quite like myself. Though her components will be organic, she too will be a shell. Her only purpose to house Martel. Some part of me seems almost eager at the thought that the Chosen would fulfil that purpose in my stead. Yet, that can't be possible. I can not experience emotions such as eagerness. Or hope… 

Whatever this strange glitch in my system is, it is squashed the second I see lord Kratos entering the apartment, looking rather glum. Even before he's opened his mouth, I could predict what he is going to say.

"It was a failure."

"Good day to you too." Yuan turns his chair to face Kratos, raising an eyebrow.

The auburn-haired man stays silent for a moment, before taking a seat as well. He puts a hand to his face, looking rather tired. Amazing, how a seraph could look so… human.

"So, what happened?" Yuan asks, leaning forward, a gleam of interest in his eyes.

"Though she completed the journey, the mana signature did not match. The girl died and Martel remains in deep slumber." Kratos heaves a deep sigh.

I watch Yuan's expression turn sad, almost mourning, as he casts his attention to the floor. "I see… How did Yggdrasill take this news?"

"The usual. He threw a fit."

"Then I guess it's all up to Tabatha." Yuan says, looking up at me with a smile.

"Tabatha?" Kratos repeats blankly, turning in his chair to follow his friend's gaze. His eyes widen slightly, as though only now noticing I've been standing in the room all this time. He surveys me up and down, taking in the appearance that had changed so much during his absence.

"Yes. Tabatha." Yuan states simply.

For a few moments, Kratos remains silent. Then he finally seems to find the right words to voice his thoughts. "Yuan, I left her here to _watch_ you. Not to be dressed up and treated like a doll."

"You're talking about her as if she's not in the room. Aren't _you_ the one treating her like a doll?" the blue-haired Seraph asks calmly. A shadow of a smile dances on his lips.

"This thing is going to become Martel's vessel. You were not supposed to get attached to it." Kratos replies, getting agitated.

"Tabatha is not a thing. She can form her own thoughts, make her own decisions… She is curious… She can _learn_. Though she may not be of flesh and blood, she is a sentient being. Now apologize to her for your rude behaviour." Yuan's eyes narrow maliciously.

"Don't you think you are letting your emotions get the best of you?" Kratos hisses back, just as fiercely.

"What are you implying?" Were it possible, the air around lord Yuan would be crackling with electricity.

"Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. Even with those strange clothes, she still looks so much like Martel, doesn't she?"

Instantly, lord Yuan lunges out his chair, drawing back a fist. The next second, Kratos is holding his bruised cheek with one hand. Though he looks slightly startled, not a sound had escaped his lips. He merely sits there, staring up at his companion.

"Don't you ever… Don't you _ever_ say something like that!" Yuan snaps, visibly shaking.

Slowly, Kratos gets to his feet, not quite meeting Yuan's eye. "It doesn't matter. When the fifty days are over, Martel's soul will be downloaded into her body, overwriting whatever personality she has at this moment."

Though Yuan's arms are hanging limply by his side, I can see his fists clenching tightly. Still, he does not say a word.

"Hmph." Kratos shakes his head before turning to the door. "I will be taking the girl. _Tabatha_, as you call her."

"Why?" Yuan's voice is filled with contempt.

"She was only here to look after you in my stead in the first place. There is no need for her to be here any longer."

"You…!"

Finally, I decide to interrupt the vicious exchange of words.

"My lords, please, stop arguing." I say, causing both men to turn their attention to me. "Lord Kratos is correct. My presence was only temporary. I must return to master Altessa. Final tests must be run before the program is completed."

"Tabatha…" the emotion in Yuan's eyes is more clear than ever before. The emotion that has been hidden under the surface since the first time I met him. _Loneliness_.

Kratos' face remains blank for a few seconds, watching Yuan intently before turning back to the door once more. "It is for the best, Yuan."

With that, he leaves the room, expecting me to follow on my own. I stay behind, fixing the seraph with a steady gaze. "Though lord Kratos is correct about the fact that I can no longer remain here, he cannot forbid you from entering the laboratories to visit me."

"That's true." Yuan looks up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tries to force a smile. "But that is also temporary, is it not?"

"Correct." Is all I say, before heading out the door as well.

Perhaps, if Martel were in my position, she would have stayed behind and comforted Yuan. She would have tried to make him feel better, or perhaps even tell a lie to do so. That is one of the differences between her and myself.

I am not Martel. Not yet…


	10. Smiles

((**A/N:** Chapter nine, everyone! We're nearing the end of the story, now.))

* * *

Smiles.

Forty-nine days have passed since I was first activated. Only one day is left… One day until my internal programming has finished its setup and Martel will be downloaded into my body. One day as a soulless vessel. I will experience only one more day… as Tabatha.

In the last six days, lord Yuan had come to see me only once. The visit had been brief. He'd stated that he did not enjoy the way the dwarves would grovel at his feet whenever he entered the room or tried to leave.

This day, I had awoken from my regeneration cycle to notice that there was something off. Something inside one of my subroutines seemed to be broken. I had run an internal test, but no results came. I tried again, and again, all attempts using slightly different scan options, yet nothing could be found.

After the fifth unsuccessful attempt, I had decided to report this to master Altessa. While doing so I had noticed that my voice seemed off. It sounded even more robotic than usual. This is how I ended up connected to a large processing computer, as a last resort.

"Hmm… Still nothing out of the ordinary." Master Altessa mutters under his breath, going through the results as they appear. "It is probably just some glitch, caused by the download program."

I nod curtly, still allowing the computer to finish its test. As one would say; Better safe than sorry. I am this laboratory's most valuable project, so mistakes cannot be allowed.

"Lord Yuan came by while you were regenerating." Altessa speaks idly, as if trying to make conversation.

I remain silent. Even though lord Yuan stated he dislikes the laboratories, he came to visit me a second time? How unexpected.

"I'm sure he's concerned about the outcome of this project. When he noticed you were on stand-by, he took a quick look at your statistics before leaving again." A look of surprise spreads across Altessa's face as he looks up at me. "… You're smiling!"

"My apologies, master." I relax my face muscles again, uncurling my lips. "I was under the impression one smiles when hearing that another cares about him or her."

For a moment, Altessa says nothing. Then, he starts to chuckle. "You truly are my most extravagant creation."

Master Altessa is the one who created my special software. Were it not for this software, I would not be able to learn, or imitate emotions. Were it not for master Altessa, I would not be myself. Therefore, Altessa is my creator. The other dwarves do not care for me the way that master Altessa does, nor do they have anything to do with who I am. Therefore, they are not my creators.

There is a soft beeping sound as the computer finishes its test. Altessa turns to the screen once more, his face remaining quite blank as he goes through the results.

"Still nothing peculiar here." He sighs. "I suppose that as long as it doesn't impair your system, there's nothing to worry about."

"Acknowledged."

I release myself from the computer's testing pod, stepping away from it. An automated doll does not suffer from diseases and therefore does not need to see a doctor. Automated dolls may only suffer from faults in design. Ironically, the one who runs tests on me is another machine. Technology is nowhere without other technology, and the humanoid beings who keep it in check.

"Tabatha."

I turn to Master Altessa at the mention of my new designation. He had grown quite fond of the name lord Yuan had given me.

"Perhaps you should go take a walk around the city. It is best your joints are operating to their maximum capacity tomorrow."

An excuse. A comment given to hide one's true intentions. Master Altessa knows that today would be my last chance to see Welgaia. I do not experience pleasure in 'taking walks', yet, for some unknown reason, the idea is appealing to me.

"Acknowledged." I state, heading for the exit. As I close the door behind me, I notice that master Altessa is smiling.

* * *

I make my way through the streets of Welgaia once more, observing my surroundings closely. As usual, the angels bow low as I pass, murmuring Martel's name. Despite my new appearance and name, they still see me only as the one who will harbour their goddess' soul. 

After twelve minutes, I find myself face to face with Welgaia's very own Cathedral of Martel. That is the place where everything 'began'. It is there that I learned of lady Martel. It is there that I first truly met lord Yuan. As a human would say, the Cathedral holds important memories to me. Can memories be defined as important? What would define a memory as being important? The impact that the scene leaves on one's life, perhaps?

I find myself walking up the steps, towards those large wooden doors. Yet, as I push them open, a familiar voice reaches my sensors. I freeze, holding the door ajar as I listen intently.

"I still don't see why you are getting so upset about this matter." Lord Kratos' voice says, followed by a near impossible to hear sigh.

"Did that crystal truly dull your human emotions, or are you simply _acting_ like another one of those lifeless beings?" Lord Yuan's voice asks. He sounds extremely irritated, as he often does when talking to his fellow Seraph.

"Yuan, honestly, she's a _robot_!" Kratos exclaims. "She was _made_ for this purpose! You knew the day would come eventually!"

"When Yggdrasill used the word 'robot', I expected it to be something even dimmer than those precious angels of his. This girl is a completely sentient being! It would be murder!"

"So what? It's not like we haven't murdered anyone to revive Martel in the past." Kratos comments calmly.

"And it's never gotten us anywhere! Don't you see? What we're doing is wrong." Yuan's voice sounds almost desperate. Desperate to make his friend understand his emotions. To make him see his pattern of thoughts. Yet to no avail.

"Yuan! Do you realize what you're saying? To speak such words is treason! Yggdrasill will-"

"It has to be said!" Yuan shouts. A banging sound echoes through the cathedral. Presumably, Yuan has slammed his hands onto one of the benches. "We were fools to follow him in the first place! He isn't the hero he used to be! We can't let things continue like this!"

A long silence follows. Finally, Kratos decides to speak once more. Though his words are hardly comforting. They sound weary. "You're a fool."

"One day, you are going to find that shred of humanity left inside you." Yuan growls in a low voice. "You are going to find it and when you do, you will realize that I was right. Then, you will regret that you didn't listen to me and perhaps, you will pray that you're not too late."

"… Tomorrow, Martel will awaken inside that automated vessel and everything will return to how it once was."

"You're deluding yourself, Kratos. Even if the transfer were to succeed, nothing would be as it once was."

"What do you mean by '_if_'?" the auburn Seraph demands in a harsh voice.

"It's still only a ninety percent chance. There is no full guarantee this will work." Yuan speaks in a warning voice. Yet, in a way, he also sounds mildly amused. Why is that?

"Granted, the guarantee is not absolute. Your math skills, however, should be able to tell you that the chance is extremely high."

"Perhaps. We will wait and see what destiny has in store for us." Though I cannot see lord Yuan's face, I do not need to in order to estimate that he is smiling. Yet, I am uncertain what sort of smile it would be.

"You're a fool, Yuan." Kratos comments one last time. Then, there is the sound of footsteps, echoing off the walls.

I step aside just in time to avoid getting hit by the doors as they slam open. Lord Kratos does not even seem to notice me as he strides past in a swift pace. I watch him move down the steps, across the square and turn a corner, before entering the cathedral myself. As I approach the front benches, I see lord Yuan sitting there, his hands folded together and his head bowed low, as though in deep prayer. He does not even need to look up to know it is me.

"We meet here again." He whispers. "Such cruel irony, don't you think?"

To encounter one another in this place could truly be seen as irony. The Cathedral of Martel, a place in honor of the one whose soul I shall receive. Lord Yuan's fiancée. Even now, the painting that depicts Martel is displayed on the altar, her eyes looking down at both of us.

"Yes, my lord."

"I wish you luck for tomorrow." He says, fixing me with an almost soulful gaze.

With that, he pushes himself to his feet and heads for the exit. Even long after his footsteps have faded, I remain where I am, trying to process this strange turn of events. Not only had lord Yuan wished me luck for an event that he dreaded… But he had smiled encouragingly while doing so. He had smiled as though he was sure that everything would turn out alright. He had smiled… as if he knew something that I did not.


	11. Purpose

((A/N: The last real chapter, everyone! I hope you'll all enjoy this, and thanks for reading up to this point!))

* * *

Purpose.

"It is time."

With a curt nod, I step forward, towards the cocoon. I have been dressed in a ceremonial robe for the occasion, my long green hair once again released from its braid. It is Yggdrasill's order that I look as close to Martel as possible, as was intended in the first place.

The entire chamber is basking in an eerie blue glow, originating from the Great Seed. Never before have I been in its presence. Like an abnormally sized flower bud, the seed floats above a machine. At lack of a different word, it could be described as beautiful. Yet, in a way, it is not. To think what it represents, it could be called horrifying as well…

Fifty days have passed since I was first activated. Exactly fifty days and now my internal software has finished its setup. Today is the day Lord Yggdrasill once again appeared in the laboratories, accompanied by his two trusted subordinates. Today is the day Martel will awaken inside my body, causing 'Tabatha' to disappear. Today my purpose will be fulfilled.

'_Who am I?_'

As I reach the cocoon, I turn back to face those who are in the chamber as well. Master Altessa is standing closest, a rather blank expression on his face. Still, I can see his moustache twitching nervously. A few other dwarves are in the room as well, monitoring the event.

Then I cast my gaze to the three Seraphim. Lord Yggdrasill is in front, levitating a few inches above the ground with the aid of his wings, his arms crossed impatiently. The seed's glow is reflected in his empty green eyes, creating a rather intimidating appearance. Behind him, on his right side, lord Kratos is standing. As usual, locks of auburn hair are hiding his true facial expression like a veil. Lord Yuan, flanking Yggdrasill's left side, is staring stubbornly at the floor in front of him. It is hard to tell what he is thinking.

Carefully, I lower myself into the cocoon, lying down to face the ceiling above me. Master Altessa approaches me, ensuring the machine is properly connected to my bionic body. A few clicks ring through the air. Were it possible, I would feel nervous. Anxious. I would be worried about the future. Yet I can think about the future and try to estimate what it would look like, only to come up empty. Is that not the same as worrying, in a way?

'_What am I?_'

Master Altessa steps back, his expression still as blank as before. The preparations have completed.

"This is it." Yggdrasill speaks, spreading his arms, as though addressing a large audience. A meaningless smile appears on his face. "Finally, Martel will be revived. This truly is a most memorable day. Let the download commence."

Wordlessly, master Altessa approaches a control panel, almost outside my limit of sight. A few moments later, the cocoon slowly closes around me with a whirring sound. I turn my gaze back to the ceiling, awaiting my fate.

I was never truly alive, so I cannot die. I will merely disappear. Martel will take my body, not knowing about its previous 'inhabitant'. She will be reunited with her younger brother, fiancée and human companion.

Lord Yuan spoke of destiny. There is still that chance that Martel's resurrection is the wrong thing to do. There is still that ten percent chance of failure. A ten percent chance that I will continue to exist. A lifeless, sentient being in a body of mechanics and software.

My eyes slide shut, data being fed into my very core. The download has started.

Slowly, surely, I feel a presence. Close to me, next to me, all around me. _Inside_ my being. Though my eyes are closed, I can see the silhouette of a woman with long, flowing hair. Memories that are not my own start to fill my head. Memories of a female half-elf, hoping to end the discrimination against her people, as well as a war that threatens to destroy the world. She wishes to protect her friends, her companions. Her _family_.

My own thoughts begin to fade into nothingness as the silhouette reaches out. Then, suddenly, it is as though something inside me clicks. As if a switch has been flipped, cutting off the flow of information. Immediately, the woman disappears from where she came, yet the memories remain, duplicates of the original. In what seems like only a few seconds, I regain consciousness, my thoughts as strong as ever.

The first thing that reaches my senses is an alarm. A loud ringing siren. As my eyes open once again, I ask myself what has happened. The answer, however, is easily determined.

"The download was a failure." Master Altessa sighs.

The cocoon opens once more, releasing me from my coffin-like prison, allowing me to sit up. As I spot lord Yggdrasill's expression, however, I deduce that possibly I was safer if the cocoon had remained closed.

"No!" The blonde swoops forward, his face just inches from mine as he stares deeply into my eyes, an emotion similar to desperation on his face. He grabs my shoulders, shaking me harshly. "Martel! Martel, speak to me!"

Still, Yggdrasill wishes I was someone I am not. His deepest desire is for me to be Martel. But I am not Martel. Even though I was made to be her, I'm not. Why can't this man accept that? Why doesn't he realize?

"I am not Martel! I am Tabatha! I am _Tabatha_!" I shout, pushing the Seraph away from me. Then, I realize what I have done and turn quiet.

For a moment, Yggdrasill looks as if he has received a slap in the face. A silence fills the chamber, as everyone holds their breath in anticipation of what might come. My actions will be punished for certain. What possessed me to lose my temper with the leader of Cruxis, the highest being on Derris-Kharlan and both worlds below?

In the fraction of a second, Yggdrasill's expression turns from shocked to angered. His empty green eyes narrow into a glare filled with hatred, as if he is blaming me for what has happened. As if I am responsible for the loss of his sister.

"Yuan!" he snaps, whipping round to face his subordinates.

"Yes, my lord?" the Seraph in question bows deeply.

"Destroy this… This _doll_! As well as the dwarf who dared to test my patience!"

Another silence follows. Most eyes turn to Altessa, who is still standing helplessly next to the cocoon. Yuan straightens up again, his face quite blank. Kratos casts him a swift glance before turning to their leader.

"Lord Yggdrasill, perhaps we should-"

"I will comply, my lord." Yuan cuts across him.

"Excellent." With a flap of his majestic wings, Yggdrasill is already halfway towards the exit. "Lord Kratos, let us leave."

Silently, without question, Kratos follows the blonde out the door. Still, I could swear I saw him shaking his head for a moment. All eyes turn to Yuan, who remains standing in the centre of the room.

Altessa takes a step forward carefully. "My lord, please have-"

"Follow." Yuan says loudly.

"W-what?"

"I will not let your dead body defile this sacred chamber. Both of you, follow." With that, the blue-haired Seraph turns to the exit and starts walking.

Accepting the orders given to me, I stand up and leave the cocoon, moving towards the door. Master Altessa joins my side, as he will be suffering the same fate. All other dwarves avert their gaze as we pass, not daring to look at us anymore. Do they consider us sinners? Failures, unable to grasp Cruxis' goal? Are they ashamed of us? Or are they perhaps feeling sympathy deep down after all, unable to show it in fear of being punished?

Not speaking a word, we follow lord Yuan through the halls. I am unsure of where we are going. Will the man truly be able to kill my master without feeling remorse? Will he truly be able to destroy me as if I were some sort of doll, not made to his liking?

So many questions, yet I cannot determine the answer to any of them.

Finally, we reach a door. A simple looking door, just one of many. Yuan opens it to reveal a default room. As we enter, I see it has a teleporter which is already activated. My old clothes, the ones lord Yuan had designed for me, lie neatly folded and stacked upon a desk. I notice that master Altessa's eyebrows raise slowly and the door closes behind us.

"You will escape to the planet's surface with this teleporter. You will hide from Cruxis and not tell anyone about its secrets. To Yggdrasill, you two are dead." Yuan says, crossing his arms as turns to face us.

"It was you. You placed the virus in Tabatha's programming while she was regenerating." Altessa concludes, speaking his low gruff voice, as always. Considering the situation, he is quite calm.

The Seraph says nothing, his emerald eyes still watching us expectantly, almost impatiently. A virus in my programming? But when master Altessa checked the results of the tests yesterday, he had said there was nothing to worry about. Has he known all this time and hidden it from me?

"Why are you doing this for us?" the dwarf asks.

Even though lord Yggdrasill gave him a direct order, Yuan is ignoring that to help master Altessa and myself. To send us to the surface of the planet where Cruxis' lord would never search for us.

"Because reviving lady Martel isn't the right to do. She would not have wanted it like this," I state.

Yuan's gaze meets my own and a faint smile appears on his face. In a way, it is a sad smile. Serene, yet lonely. "A long time ago, I wasn't able to protect someone very close to me. Blinded by my grief and easily swayed by my fellows, I chose the wrong path to follow. Now, all I can do is try to atone for my mistake."

With that, he takes the stack of clothes and holds it out to me. I accept it, holding it close to my chest as my gaze strays to the teleporter. That teleporter is my path to freedom. On the surface of the planet, I will no longer be restricted to a laboratory, nor will I be seen as Martel. It is a positive prospect.

"Thank you, lord Yuan," I stare up at him again, smiling politely.

Farewells are never kind. Especially if you are not certain whether you will ever meet that person again. You will wonder what will become of that individual after you leave. You will try to predict how he or she will spend the rest of his life. But as I turn back to face lord Yuan one last time before my surroundings are overtaken by the light of the teleporter, I am sure that he will be alright.

When your objective is not given, you must go out and find it yourself. You must leave the restrictions that were set around you and head into the open world. That is the only way your life will find purpose.

* * *

((Stay tuned for the Epilogue, folks!)) 


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

I step across the Holy Ground of Kharlan, my eyes surveying the area. The Tower of Salvation has been completely destroyed. The only thing left of Tethe'alla's beacon of hope is a low wall surrounding the altar and many rocks that lie scattered in a fifty mile radius. It is a sad state of affairs, yet I have no other choice but to 'believe' in Lloyd and his friends.

Lloyd Irving… The son of lord Kratos Aurion, Seraph of Cruxis. It is nearly impossible to tell that this compassionate boy is a relative of Yggdrasill's cold subordinate. The ones traveling with him are a strange group as well. Half-elves and humans alike, both male and female. Amongst these seven companions are the two Chosen Ones of this time. Those born in the Mana lineage, selected to become Martel's vessel, as I had been. These are the people who have set out to defy Mithos Yggdrasill.

Mithos… How could I have known? That the kind boy who had saved my life, the one who had kept me company for such a long time, was actually a demon in disguise? I had never received information on lord Yggdrasill's first name. I had never seen his younger form, nor did I know it existed. There was no way I could have foreseen this. Yet I still blame myself for what has happened to master Altessa.

After resetting my program, the damage Mithos caused to my system had repaired itself. I know that, along with it, the glitch that lord Yuan had created so long ago has disappeared as well. Once again, I am that vessel created to accept Martel.

Judging from the beautiful light that had enveloped the entire planet not too long ago, the worlds must have been reunited. Lloyd and his friends have succeeded. But even now, I can sense that everything is still not as it should be. The Mana levels are dropping harshly, causing this grand new world to die before it could fully prosper.

I cast my gaze upwards to meet a gorgeous sight. The Great Seed, bathed in the light of Derris-Kharlan's Mana, is falling towards the earth. The Great Tree will live again if it sprouts on this holy ground. Yet, the souls within it would remain trapped, lacking a physical form to guard the world's new symbol of hope.

Knowing what I must do, I raise my hands to the sky, welcoming the seed. I will always remain Martel's vessel. It is my purpose for being, and only when I accept the goddess' soul will my life be complete. I am grateful for the life that master Altessa has granted me, as I am grateful for the freedom lord Yuan has provided. It is time I repay my debt.

This has always been my purpose.

To become lady Martel, the goddess who watches over this world.


End file.
